by Gus Russo
Korshak in Vegas (FBI)
As for Factor's INS problem, apparently the character references by Al Hart and the others had failed to impress the feds. Thus, Factor decided to go over their heads, this time with the legal assistance of Abe Pritzker's partner Stanford Clinton. Somehow, Factor was able to persuade Attorney General Bobby Kennedy to bring him to Washington to discuss the INS case.
Factor later told the press that during their chat, Bobby Kennedy slyly brought up the fact that he needed donations to help secure the release of 1,113 Cuban Brigade soldiers captured by Castro's forces after the disastrous April 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion. Reports had been circulating for months that Kennedy was placing threatening calls to business leaders with tax or other pending legal matters, practically extorting the funds from them. In conversations monitored by the FBI, it was clear that even the underworld was impressed by Bobby Kennedy's mastering of the "velvet hammer" extortion approach. On one occasion, the agents reported that Giancana aide Chuckie English "pointed out that the attorney general raising money for the Cuba invaders makes Chicago's syndicate look like amateurs."
After a number of meetings with "the Barber" in December 1962, Bobby Kennedy recommended to his brother that Factor be pardoned—this despite what his own wiretaps were telling him about Factor's continuing relationship with the mob at the Stardust. Bobby's decision became clearer when Factor told reporters that he'd contributed $25,000 to Kennedy's "Tractors for Cuba" fund.*
President Kennedy granted Jake's pardon on Christmas Eve, 1962, the same night the prisoners landed in Miami, and just one week after the INS announced its decision to deport Factor.70 But soon after, Bobby began to have misgivings about what he had done. Jack Clarke, who worked in the investigative police unit of Chicago's Mayor Daley, recently recalled what happened next. "Bobby Kennedy called me and asked if there would be any problem if Jake Factor were pardoned," said Clarke. "When I explained the details of Factor's Outfit background—Capone, Humphreys, the Sands, et cetera—Bobby went, 'Holy shit!' He then explained that he had already approved the pardon." Clarke added that Bobby's dealings with the Factor case were not atypical: "RFK didn't know what he was doing in the Justice Department. He had no idea of the subtleties, the histories of these people." Clarke, however, was unaware of Factor's little donation.
Eventually settling in Los Angeles, the much traveled Factor took particular interest in the welfare of underprivileged black youth in the Los Angeles district known as Watts. In the 1960s, after bestowing a $1 million endowment (allegedly through the Joseph P. Kennedy Foundation) on a Watts youth center, a Los Angeles Times reporter brought up his ties with the Outfit. Factor broke into tears, asking, "How much does a man have to do to bury his past?"
Jake Factor was not the only Supermob associate having travails during 1962. Lew Wasserman and Jules Stein saw the unrelenting antitrust nuisance reach the breaking point that year. For decades the Department of Justice had hinted at a crackdown on the runaway MCA juggernaut. Until now, authorities had failed to rein in the company whose books were such a closely guarded secret that even Wall Street was unable to assign a credit rating. Now, thanks to a persistent DOJ prosecutor named Leonard Posner, it looked as if something was actually going to happen.
Throughout the winter of 1962, a grand jury took testimony from actors, producers, and clients who had any dealings with what was now referred to as The Octopus. During the proceedings, MCA, with Paul Ziffren acting in the capacity of MCA "house counsel," intimidated actors such as Joseph Cotten and Betty Grable from testifying and obtained leaks from the testimony of those who did.71 Those who dared to testify, such as Eddie Fisher, Paul Newman, Audrey Hepburn, and Carroll Baker, gave measured responses that betrayed their fears over losing work if they offended the Octopus.
By far the most anticipated testimony was that of the man who'd granted the blanket waiver to MCA, former SAG president Ronald Reagan. On February 5, 1962, Reagan appeared before the grand jury, but his testimony wasn't unsealed until 1984, in response to a Freedom of Information Act request by David Robb, then a reporter for Daily Variety (later the chief labor and legal correspondent for the Hollywood Reporter).
Reagan's appearance was most notable for his staggeringly—some might say impossibly—bad memory. Most shocking, he claimed no memory of the MCA blanket waiver, arguably one of the most important SAG decisions in its history. The befuddled federal antitrust division attorney who conducted the questioning, John Fricano, attempted in vain to refresh him.
"This was a very important matter which Screen Actors Guild was taking up and it was the most important point of the guild," Fricano reminded the actor. The nonplussed Reagan asked when the action was taken. Fricano replied, "July 1952."
"Well, maybe the fact that I married in March of 1952 and went on a honeymoon had something to do with my being a little bit hazy," answered Reagan.
"Do you recall whether or not you participated in the negotiations held by MCA and SAG with respect to the blanket waiver in July of 1952?" asked Fricano.
"No, I think I have already told you I don't recall that. I don't recall," insisted the future U.S. president.
Fricano then attempted to plumb the details of the 1954 waiver extension, with the same lack of success.
"I don't honestly recall," Reagan answered. "You know something? You keep saying [1954] in the summer. I think maybe one of the reasons I don't recall was because I feel that in the summer [of 1954] I was up in Glacier Park making a cowboy picture."
When Reagan lied in denying he had been a producer while serving as SAG president, the interrogators were so convinced of his perjury that they began impounding his tax returns for 1952-55.
On June 17, 1962, DOJ's lead MCA prosecutor, Leonard Posner, filed a 150-page brief that predicted a criminal indictment against MCA was but a week away. Posner had found an "honest and trustworthy" source who testified that Reagan had granted the MCA waiver in exchange for the job on GETheater.72 Among the infractions cited by Posner, in furtherance of a continued violation of the Sherman Anti-Trust Act:
• Monopolization of the trade in name talent.
• Monopolization of the production of filmed TV programs.
• Conspiracy with SAG regarding the blanket waiver and the above monopolies.
• Restraint of trade (including packaging "tie-ins," extortion for services not rendered, blackballing independent producers, discrimination, and predatory practices).
Lew Wasserman then flew to Washington to plea/negotiate with Attorney General Robert Kennedy, who dropped all the criminal indictments despite the illegal blanket-waiver deal and MCA's twenty-five-year history of violating the Sherman Anti-Trust Act. Leonard Posner's case against MCA would never be heard in court. As part of the agreement, MCA vacated its artist agency work in favor of its more lucrative production wing, which immediately scooped up Universal Studios and Decca Records. MCA-Universal quickly became the biggest film producer in the entertainment industry, while the agency business was sold to former MCA employees who formed Artists Agency Group, which continued to deal almost exclusively with MCA.
Two months after he quit his job with DOJ, Posner died of a heart attack. The brilliant lawyer was described as "bitter" by friends and "disappointed" that his superiors didn't pursue the MCA case. If Posner was suspicious of his boss's inaction, he had good reason, for a potential conflict of interest loomed not far in the background: not only had Bobby Kennedy assigned Jules Stein's son-in-law, William vanden Heuvel, as his adviser on the MCA matter, but one of MCA's lead attorneys on the case was Hy Raskin of Chicago, one of the Kennedy family's most trusted advisers during the 1960 campaign.73 Within a year of the agency bust-up, Wasserman established himself as one of the Democratic Party's chief contributors. Ed Weisl Sr., who arranged MCA's purchase of Paramount's library and ran interference for Wasserman during the DOJ investigation, suggested that Wasserman throw a fund-raiser for West Coast high rollers to gather support for John F. Kennedy's 1
964 reelection campaign. Wasserman happily agreed to cohost the June 7, 1963, $l,000-a-plate dinner with Sid Korshak's great friend and client Eugene Klein.51' Afterward, aided by United Artists chairman Arthur Krim and Paul Ziffren, Wasserman came up with a gimmick called the President's Club, which gave businessmen increased access to the president in exchange for sustained contributions to his campaign coffers. For a $1,000 contribution, club members received a gold-engraved membership card, invitations to cabinet briefings, and an annual club dinner. But what was most prized was the increased purchase that accompanied such access to JFK.74 Years later, when Richard Nixon became aware of all the Hollywood Jewish money going to the Democrats, he demanded an IRS workup on them. "Can't we investigate some of the cocksuckers?" Nixon can be heard saying on the White House tapes.75
The success of Wasserman's President's Club made the former Justice Department foe a hero to the Kennedy administration. And if Bobby Kennedy's interest in MCA wasn't completely erased by Wasserman's gambit, it would be on November 22, 1963, when his brother was gunned down in Dallas, after which Bobby's interest in all ongoing cases vanished as he retreated into virtual catatonia.
After the MCA breakup, Reagan formally became a Republican (which he had long been in spirit) and entered into a production partnership with MCA. The company soon found him more work as the host of the television series Death Valley Days, while staking him for a career in politics.
As Wasserman exercised his influence on the national stage, Sid Korshak did likewise on the state level. In 1984, the staff of the New Jersey Gaming Commission concluded in a report, "It is quite evident that over the years [Korshak] has made good contacts with very powerful politicians . . . Korshak's list of past and present associates reads like a Who's Who of prominent southern Californians." By the early sixties, Korshak's business style was well-known for its unconventionally—million-dollar deals were cut in swank restaurants, hotels, or in Korshak's mansion. The same modus applied to his political machinations. At one of his famous home business brunches in 1962, Korshak mediated internal Democratic Party squabbles between Paul Ziffren and Eugene Wyman, Ziffren's successor as California Democratic National Committeeman. The difficulties included differing strategies employed in the Brown-Nixon gubernatorial contest by Jesse "Big Daddy" Unruh, Speaker of the California Assembly, who had been accused of hiring ten thousand precinct workers to elect Pat Brown over Richard Nixon.76 Even Brown was upset with Unruh, telling his aide at one point, "Do you know that Unruh is the German word for unrest? It's where the English word for unruly comes from. Appropriate, isn't it?"77
With Ziffren, Wyman, and Unruh now breaking bread at Sidney's Chalon breakfast nook, the Fixer worked his usual magic. "Over coffee, Sidney finally said to Paul, 'You know, we Democrats have a hard time in the s t a t e , ' " one source told the New York Times. " 'We shouldn't be taking each other on in public. If you've got a complaint, you should go and talk to Jesse. If you can't get satisfaction, you come to me or Gene before spouting off to the press.'" The confidential source noted, "There was no threat, nothing but sweetness. But, my God, from that day on Paul Ziffren never said another unkind thing about Jesse Unruh." Indeed, Ziffren agreed with Korshak's wisdom, later saying, "It was more important to elect Pat Brown than to have fights."78
The resultant truce was pivotal in that year's gubernatorial election victory (by 297,000 votes out of 6 million cast) of Pat Brown over Richard Nixon, who had stooped to new lows in election fraud and red-baiting in his attempt to defeat Brown. During the campaign, Nixon's team (which included many wrho would later execute the Watergate break-in) formed the phony Committee for the Preservation of the Democratic Party in California, which mailed nine hundred thousand postcards attacking the "left-wing minority" who had hijacked the party and the California Democratic Council (CDC). By this time, the Brown-Ziffren alliance had been resuscitated after Brown appointed Ziffren to head up the CDC. Nixon's ploy was just an updated version of the Knowland charges that had failed in 1958. Nixon also ordered the doctoring of photos in such a way as to depict Brown consorting with known Communist leaders. The Democrats sued, and after protracted hearings, the case was settled in 1964 for a reported $500,000. During the litigation it was determined that Nixon was personally involved in the shenanigans.79 Writing for the Nation, Carey McWilliams summed up Nixon's ethos, saying, "As in 1952, the faceless, amoral Nixon is still on the make, still fighting Communism, still full of tricks, haunted by, as always, the lack of self-knowledge."80
The new year 1963 saw Sid Korshak maintaining the same hectic pace he had the previous year. His FBI file noted that he attended Debbie Reynolds's Vegas opening at the Riviera in January. Sid's wife, Bee, continued her globe-trotting; in April, she journeyed to Madrid with her two sons and actress Cyd Charisse, wife of Sid's old Chicago pal Tony Martin. When they returned, the Korshaks hosted Tony and Cyd at the Riviera in Vegas on the occasion of the Martins' fifteenth wedding anniversary. The Kirk Douglases and Vincente Minnellis also attended.81 Gus Alex's wife, Marianne, continued her close friendship with Bee, while Sidney remained pals with Gus. When Marianne sought to divorce Alex, whose way of life proved too much for her, the Korshaks counseled them. When the love-struck Gussie initially balked at the separation, Sidney convinced him to grant Marianne the divorce. Alex licked his wounds at Korshak's beachfront Malibu rental, availing himself of Sid's Cadillac while there.82 Bee Korshak eventually brought Marianne out to L.A., where she helped her get a job as Dinah Shore's fashion adviser on her nationwide television show. Marianne Ryan Alex eventually married Shore's producer, Fred Tatasciore.
On April 15, Korshak was spotted trying to enter Al Hart's Del Mar Racetrack with Johnny Rosselli, but they were turned away because Rosselli was barred from the premises.83 During that same week, an old flame of Johnny's, Judy Campbell, contacted Sid on the advice of Sam Giancana. At the time, Campbell was sleeping with both President Kennedy and Giancana and was under constant FBI surveillance, or, in her opinion, harassment. A number of grand juries were impaneled to look into both Giancana and Rosselli, and Campbell feared testifying before them. Sam told her that Korshak "should be able to take care of things for you. Any more problems, just give me a call."84 Korshak asked her to fly to Vegas, where he was obviously busy with the Martin festivities. In her autobiography, My Story, Campbell described Korshak: "Sid is tall, with a long face, large soft nose, and small eyes. Everything about him is deliberate, relentless . . . No hurry. It can always be done—that kind of attitude. No one was going to stop him. No one was going to say anything unpleasant. No one was going to change his mind . . . I was never afraid of Sam, but Sid frightened me. I could feel the power he wielded as he sat there watching me . . . I had as much chance of staring him down as I would have had with a lizard."85
Back in Beverly Hills on the nineteenth, the two met again at the Riviera's second-floor reservation office on Wilshire, and later that day at Korshak's evening hangout, the Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel. At the meetings, Korshak assured Campbell she would not have to testify. In the coming weeks, Campbell was stunned by her good fortune. "Someone wrorked a miracle," she wrote. "I didn't have to appear before the Grand Jury."
There are also anecdotal reports of Korshak's intervention with another JFK paramour, actress Marilyn Monroe. Although the details of the contact are unknown, a number of Hollywood insiders heard the rumors. Milt Ebbins, Peter Lawford's longtime manager, was among those who recently spoke of it. "I had heard that Marilyn went to Sidney for some representation," Ebbins recalled, "but for what exactly I never knew."86 There are numerous ways Korshak could have been drawn into the Monroe maelstrom. In addition to being friends with Monroe's confidant (and Kennedy in-law) Peter Lawford, Korshak was close with Giancana and Rosselli, who were well-known friends of Monroe's,87 Giancana having partied with her and Sinatra at the mob hangout Cal-Neva Lodge just one week before her fatal overdose on August 4, 1962.88 (Over the years, Sinatra, Joe Kennedy, and Sam Giancana ha
d owned a piece of the hotel-casino, which straddled the California-Nevada border on the north shore of Lake Tahoe.)89
Monroe's and Campbell's boyfriend President Kennedy was meanwhile beginning to attend Democratic Party fund-raisers in anticipation of the next year's presidential race. On June 7, 1963, Kennedy had a fund-raiser in Los Angeles, which was attended by Korshak associates Al Hart and Eugene Wyman; Korshak clients in attendance included Donna Reed and Dean Martin.90
All the while, Korshak's comings and goings were being watched, not only by the likes of Jack Tobin and Robert Goe, but also by the FBI. Los Angeles FBI agent Mike Wacks was one of those monitoring the elusive power broker. "Sidney was one of our primary targets here in L.A. because we felt that he controlled a lot of the local Teamster business," Wacks recalled. "He had a great say and gave an awful lot of advice to the Chicago mob on how to run the Teamster pension funds. We knew this from a lot of different sources. Over the years, we followed Sidney because our boss was really interested in getting him. He would put us on him for a day or two just to see what he was up to. He knew he was being followed but he didn't care. He just didn't care. He just said, 'Hey, these are my clients and that's what I do.'
He was like Teflon, he could never get charged. He was amazing. He was one sharp cookie. Nobody ever ratted him out, and he never got caught on a wire. It's just amazing."
* Ocean's Eleven, in addition to boasting JFK's visits to the set, provided a sneak peak into the world of the Supermob—for those who knew what to look for. The casino portions of the film were shot largely in Korshak's Riviera, and Korshak saw to it that his great friend George Raft was given a role in the movie as a casino owner; the opening scenes took place in Drucker's, the Beverly Hills barbershop preferred by Korshak, Rosselli, Siegel, Raft, et al.; Frank Sinatra's character "Danny Ocean" was married to "Bee," played byAngie Dickinson; the five casinos robbed by Sinatra's gang were the five most closely rumored to have been run by "the boys"—the Flamingo, the Sands, the Desert Inn, the Riviera, and the Sahara. But, for the knowledgeable, the most memorable moment in the movie came when actor Akim Tamiroff, referring to the gang's enlistment of an ex-con in their scheme, uttered one of the most absurd examples of high sarcasm ever memorialized on celluloid: "A man with a record can't get near Las Vegas, much less the casinos."